


Pas de Deux

by callunavulgari



Series: Dark Month Collection [71]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: 31 Days Of Halloween, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Blood, Doppelganger, M/M, Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: Roxas doesn’t remember what the sky looks like anymore.





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

> Day 13 of October. Prompts were: strange harvest, fight, seashore, warning, ‘everything buried gets dug up eventually’, mirrors, and shake.
> 
> I watched Us tonight. It freaked me out, so I wrote about it.

Roxas doesn’t remember what the sky looks like anymore. He’d known it once. It was blue, he thinks, but when he tries to recall the exact shade, the only thing that comes to mind is the lightning turning the sky above the sea purple that last, horrible night.

He’d had another name once, but he doesn’t remember that either.

He remembers the tunnels though. The broken shadows waltzing to the tune of their above ground counterparts. They had laughed without sound, smiled in a way that never quite reached their eyes, lips curving so wide that they looked like slick, red gashes.

When he was younger, there was terror. The hallways were loud and soundless at once. He didn’t touch the rabbits for a week, until he was reeling with hunger, until a shadow with the face of his mother raised red flesh to his lips and made him eat.

Now that he’s older, there’s just the madness. These broken people, these shadows, they listened to him. So he lead them out, up to the sky and the sea, where their counterparts walked without a care in the world, thinking the world was their right.

He killed his other’s chosen one. His double. Shadow. Doppelganger. Slashed his pretty throat so that his silver hair soaked up all the red. Then he chose his own.

Axel was just as broken as the rest of the pathetic marionettes, but Roxas liked the way he looked. Liked the way he screamed, bestial and unafraid. He was a good dancer, so Roxas chose him. Made him his.

His other is the only one who expects it. He's the only one who sees the signs, the warnings, and knows about the strange harvest lying in wait just beneath their feet.

He runs and hides, hand wrapped around his chosen one’s, his Riku’s, but they aren’t fast enough. He sets Axel on Riku, and can’t turn back to see if he accomplishes his task. Roxas has his own task to finish, his own dance to complete.

Roxas takes Sora back to those hallways, empty now save for the scurrying tap of rabbit feet in the dark.

They dance - flashing silver blades, ribbons of blood.

He thinks that Sora was meant to win. After all, he’d won last time. He’d dragged Roxas into this place and chained him to the bedpost. It was his fault - all his fault that Roxas had forgotten the sky. The breeze. The sound the ocean made at high tide.

But Sora didn’t have what he had. Sora could dance, but he was a warning strike. Roxas was the one who knew how to go for the kill.

When he climbs out of his tunnels and makes that last trek up to the surface, Axel is waiting for him. There is blood on his skin, two bleeding gashes just above his cheekbones, but he’s there. Waiting.

They stand on the seashore together and link hands, their eyes on the sky.

After all, everything that’s buried gets dug up eventually.


End file.
